Kilana
by keiranfletcher
Summary: With the tragedy of the Dominion War over, an opportunity arises to continue the bloodshed- or find a glimmer of undestanding, however late. A Vorta confronts the difficulties of Peace for her unit... and herself.


_2375. The Armistice is signed. On the fringes of the silent battlefields of the Dominion War, the USS Pilgrim, a new ship with a young crew already battles-scarred, responds to a Federation distress signal and encounters a Jem'Hadar Battleship that may still be fighting the war._

Kilana watched the strange starship growing on her eyepiece and braced herself. They had been in hailing range for some time. Had they desired to talk, they would have.

Her ship's diversion to Breen space and ambush by a Klingon squadron shortly before the war's conclusion had left them adrift and without subspace communications for over a month. By the time they discovered the existence of the peace treaty, they were a week past the mandatory surrender date- and had already destroyed some Federation shipping, which had no doubt been trying to convey this information. So, at the end of their supply of ketracel white, the enzyme catalyst on which the Jem'Hadar depended to live, she had discussed options with her First. The easiest was simply to self-destruct, but Kilana baulked at the thought of killing her soldiers. She had outlined a plan that could, perhaps, allow them to retrieve a quantity of white from the Son'a, one of the Dominion's few outsource suppliers in the Alpha Quadrant, repair their ship and either negotiate surrender by subspace from safe harbor or make a run for the Wormhole.

She served the Founders. She now realized she had no idea why, or what that meant- perhaps loyalty itself was something. It saddened her, to die without knowing why she had been what she was. It saddened her that the Jem'Hadar would die, needlessly, again. She would miss Ora'katar. She did not know why this surprised her.

The Federation ship entered weapons range. Kilana did not allow herself to flinch. She looked over her eyepiece at her First. He met her gaze and almost- smiled? "We have served the Founders well," he said quietly, "as you have led us. It will be an honour to die at your side, little Vorta."

Kilana had heard the human expression, heartbrake, before. Now she knew what it described. "It is my privilege."

The Federation starship was now at point blank range. Kilana could see the markings on its hull. "Pilgrim." She thought it fitting that a ship so named would bring an end to their journey. Yet it did not.

"Why have they not fired?" Rirak'tilor demanded from his weapons station.

"They have lowered shields," Dikal'aktan reported.

"This is our chance, then! A chance to gain a ship that will bring us to the Anomaly. A ship that will be of use to the Founders!" Rirak'tilor exulted.

"No, Rirak'tilor! We have discussed this," Kilana continued, looking around the command centre into the eyes of each Jem'Hadar. Exerting her will over them in service to her gods. "The Jem'Hadar do _not_ break the Founders' peace. That is the way of things. We had a chance at being valuable to them once more, and we have lost it. To strike now would put the whole Dominion in danger."

Rirak'tilor bowed his head. "I… ask pardon for speaking."

"You have it," Kilana assured him. "None of us were designed with these circumstances in mind." Kilana considered. Then the Pilgrim fired thrusters, rotating through ninety degrees, giving her a perfect field of fire to hit their warp core. She decided, stabbing her console. "Federation starship Pilgrim, why do you hesitate? We both know what must be done to preserve the peace. We will not attack you."

A man, a Starfleet commander Kilana did not recognize appeared. He was broad-shouldered, short bearded, with very old eyes. And- young. Far younger than he looked. He spoke softly. "Vorta, I am Commander Keiran Fletcher. Why is it that you wish to die?"

"I am Kilana. We know that there is no choice. My ship was adrift without communications when the peace was signed, we missed the surrender period and have not attempted to turn ourselves in, knowing that my men would be imprisoned or killed."

"Kilana. You are known," Keiran said. "It was not known you had come to this quadrant."

"I am a clone of the Kilana whom Captain Sisko encountered. My genetic matrix was brought to Cardassia as a backup, in order to replace losses. I was a covert operative for the first part of the war. Only later did I assume command of Task Force 203."

Keiran regarded her. "I once met an amputee who was being treated on Aradain. He told me he had been serving on the Venture with a roving patrol, when a Jem'Hadar Battlecruiser and two Galors bracketed their patrol group and defeated them with utterly perfect coordination. The Venture was at their mercy, without comms, on the wrong side of the lines. The Jem'Hadar not only stood off, they beamed a subspace communications rig aboard- saved the entire crew."

"I did it because there was no reason to kill them."

"Some would have said there was no reason to let them live, either."

"Such may sometimes be the logic of war. I preferred to think that I was preparing grateful subjects for the Dominion."

Keiran pondered. "I suppose I can live with that. I see no reason for your men to die, though I might count their deaths in the service of peace a more honourable thing than years spent in the service of the Dominion. Nor to imprison them or you."

"Then what do you propose?"

"I would speak with you and your First. You will give me a detailed account of your activities for the last _four_ months. Then you will surrender your ship, eject your polaron emitters and torpedo compliment, and we will escort you to Dominion space."

"You are generous, Commander Fletcher. In point of fact, you are breaking the terms of the peace by allowing us to live."

"In the letter, certainly. In substance, though, if we can substantiate your activities for the time period specified, and in light of your unique reputation for gallant conduct, I may be able to persuade the Allied Council to let you go."

"And if that is not possible?" Kilana asked, her hopes fighting with her suspicions and inborn skepticism.

"Then your fate will be the same. You can still die for the Founders."

"Do not think that we will not. I realize that I have made myself valuable as a prisoner, and perhaps my First as well. Our lives serve the Dominion. We will not live to betray it."

"If your claim is unfavourably received, I will destroy you myself. You have my word as a Starfleet officer. You and your First may beam over with whatever escort you require."

"You are too generous. What if you trust me too far?"

"I did that when I lowered shields. The first step is the hardest, that's why I got it over with."

Kilana nodded, understanding.

"One thing further- you need only answer with your eyes. I assume by your heading toward Son'a space that you are in need of ketracel white. How many days' supply do you have left?"

"There is no need for subterfuge, Commander. My men are well aware that the last vials were given them today. It will not be long before…"

"I understand. Significant supplies were impounded by the Federation after the war, perhaps something can be done- if you will trust me."

Kilana felt her predecessor's pain on realizing that she could have saved both her men and the Founder by trusting Sisko. "Trust doesn't come easily to a Vorta- but only a trustworthy person looks for trust and bares his belly in the process. Even if it does mean that he is supremely confident in his ship's ability to absorb damage. Alright Commander. For the sake of my men, I will trust you."

"You actually care, don't you?" he asked, softly.

"I do," she responded, surprised. "Does it matter?"

"We have encountered many Vorta in this war- you may be the first worthy of being called a leader."

"You came without an escort," Keiran said without preamble.

"You only sent one officer to meet us. Someone you care about, at that."

"I care about every member of my crew. They know what it means to protect the peace. God he knows, they'd rather die for the peace, than for victory."

"Is that not weakness?" the First asked, though not in the tone Keiran expected.

As planned, Tamar put her phaser on the desk, approached him, grabbed the arm he raised automatically- and wrestled him to the ground. Kilana gasped, and with the grief of betrayal her eyes stabbed out at Kieran. Kieran merely stood up, walked around the ready room desk, and crouched down over the Elder. When he was sure that he had the Jem'Hadar's attention, he nodded to Tamar, who rose instantly. The Honoured Elder was still. "I need for you to understand this, Elder of the Jem'Hadar, because if you have served with Kilana, then you are one of the few members of your race who can genuinely comprehend. Anyone can die -for their people, their country, their gods- in combat. It's _easy_, and few species do not do so on a regular basis. But to die for peace, for understanding, to serve life itself, as your Vorta ordered earlier today- that is true courage. It takes more courage to live for those things. Do you understand?"

"I may be beginning to."

Kieran nodded for him to get up.

"I realized long ago," the Elder continued, "that in order to better serve the Dominion, it is sometimes better to break protocol- to let an erring subordinate live and learn from his error, to show restraint and care in choosing one's battlefields. Kilana has shown me that, at times, it may be best to refrain from battle, or even from victory, in order to better serve the Founders. I have not always understood her orders, as I do not understand why we are surrendering now, or why you have spared us. But I can trust, and observe, and perhaps learn why these things are before I die." He turned to Tamar. "You caught me off guard with your skill. You must have been a worthy opponent for the Jem'Hadar."

Tamar looked genuinely flattered. "I got lucky. Most of the ones I fought were too young to have genuine hand-to-hand experience, and I already had some of my own. I'm sure you would beat me, though, if I were stupid enough to try again."

"Indeed I would."

Kieran broke the pause by stating, "I have contacted Starfleet. The nearest stock of white in our possession is one and a half days from here- on this vessel. On yours, more than four days' travel would be needed. Even if a courier were dispatched to meet us, it would be too late."

"I understand Commander Fletcher," Kilana said. "And I sincerely thank you for trying. All Ora'katar and I ask now is to be permitted to die with our men."

Keiran regarded her. "Why ask for Ora'katar unless… you are free of the white?"

"That is my belief. I had felt before that it was unnecessary, and so I put it to the test when supplies ran low."

"I see. Well, Kilana, Ora'katar, I would certainly honour such a request- but there is another alternative. There is no reason not to continue with your previous mission."

"I had no idea you would allow it."

"Under supervision, and subject to your unconditional surrender, I would be inclined to do that. Besides, it'll make Admiral Ross furious."

"You dislike Admiral Ross?" Kilana asked, smiling.

"Once in a while, it's good to kick him in his own pedantry."

"Judging by his tactics, that somehow doesn't surprise me." Kilana sat down in one of the desk chairs. "If we survive, know that you have made a friend in the Dominion today. I understand and appreciate your courage and your trust. Even if we don't make it, it will have been worth it to know that trust was possible between us."

"Thank you for making that possible, Kilana."

Kilana withdrew her communications device. "Rirak'tilor, eject all weapons from the ship and power down defence systems." She waited for an acknowledgement and put it away. "Task force 203- such as it still is- tenders surrender upon your terms, Keiran."

Kieran nodded. "Then we had best be on our way, Son'a space is almost a day's journey for you."

"Do you think that they will have the white?" Ora'katar asked. "My men deserve to know."

Kieran's face darkened. "They'd better. Those wrinkly scum have amends to make to the Federation. If they forget that- I'll remind them."

The Jem'Hadar bowed slightly. "In that case, by your leave, I will get our ship underway."

Kilana bowed acquiescence. "I'll be back shortly, First. Tell the men that their loyalty is appreciated- and that we have followed the Founders' instructions. Also that I am sorry that they do not have the chance to win glory in the way they expected."

"They know this. It is why they still follow you."

"You are the reason they follow me."

"And I follow because you are our Vorta, and you care for us."

"I believe you know the way to the transporter room, First," Kieran said, testing him.

He stiffened, then relaxed. "If you would, Commander, I have some questions for the lieutenant."

Kieran smiled. "Go ahead, Tam. We'll be fine."


End file.
